


The Empath

by ajcas (arochilton)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, POV Second Person, Please Forgive me, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex, Will Graham - Freeform, Will Graham having sweaty nightmares, Will using his empathy during sex, before season 2, im really sorry, it brings to mind the hot scene where he imagines killing the nurse in entree amiright, literally just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1252657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arochilton/pseuds/ajcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's suffering some traumatic nightmares. God knows we all want to help him. Perhaps some us have some spicier methods than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Empath

**Author's Note:**

> wow hi hello there. this story has literally been in my drafts since august. i'm not sure why exactly i chose tonight to finish it, but here you go. "help" will graham ;)

You wake with a start, bolted upright at the sounds of grunts and groans and by someone's arms and legs whacking you.  
"Will," you say in a panicked voice, alarmed at the sight of him next to you. He's straightened like a board, arms thrashing, legs kicking out. Sweat greases his hair and soaks through his shirt. His grunts give off the aura of pain, and that's the last thing you want to see him in.  
"Will," you say again, tentatively grabbing his arm and attempting to shake him awake. He doesn't wake.  
His body begins to shudder. You don't know what to do, but you know he needs to wake up.  
You climb on top of him, keeping his hips from thrashing. You plant a light kiss on his lips, trailing your fingers down his shivering abdomen.  
His eyes flash open and meet yours. His breathing comes quick and ragged.  
"Nightmare again?" you ask, stroking his cheek softly.  
Still quivering, he nods. You help him sit up and wrap your arms around him, desperate to bring him comfort, to make him know how loved he is. You bury your nose in his dampened hair. "I hate seeing you in pain," you whisper.  
He's still sweaty, his shirt clinging to him. He takes it off and tosses it aside. Mindlessly you lie him back down and caress his chest, waiting for his breathing to slow back down. He runs a hand through your hair lightly. You trail kisses along his stomach, stopping when you reach his boxer shorts. His hand keeps your head hovering the spot, allowing you to continue. You realize quickly that this is what he needs. You breathe softly on his bulge before touching it through his boxers. His breath hitches and he moans softly. You slide off the shorts carefully, tossing them to the side. You close a hand around his length, stroking it gently. As you descend your mouth onto his cock, his hands tangle into your hair. His chest, shiny with sweat, heaves as you flick your tongue over the slit. Soon he's hard, and his hips buck up into your mouth. You ease as much of him into your mouth as possible, moaning lowly at the sound of his pleasured gasps.  
"Are you feeling better, my darling Will?" you whisper around his length, fingers splayed out on his soft sac.  
His response is a soft groan as he runs his fingers through your hair.  
You delve him into your mouth once more, and as you lift your mouth off him, he's pushing you down on the bed, ripping your tank top and shorts off in one quick motion. In an instant, his mouth is on your cunt, already wet and pounding from the intimacy of sucking him off. You gasp as he licks your folds, the scruff of his beard tickling you pleasurably. He inserts a digit into you, then two. You squirm in delight, hand thrusted into his soft, damp curls. His tongue is quick and talented, knowing exactly where to suck and how to work it with his fingers inside you. "Will," you moan, your body ready to spasm.  
You back off reluctantly. You have to maintain your stamina for what's next; you can't be losing yourself too soon.  
You lie him down and climb on top of him, sheathing his cock into your cunt. You gasp as you come down, leaning forward to kiss him gently. You ride him slowly, as if afraid he might break. His breath hasn't quite gone back to normal yet, and now it quickens again. He moans softly, stroking your face.  
A strange sensation comes over him. His eyes close and he goes completely still. You don't move. 

The pendulum swings in Will Graham's brain. In his mind, he sees exactly what you want him to do to you. He plays out the scene in his head from your point of view:  
"I want him to fuck me. I enjoy doing with him as I please, but I want it rough. I want him to pin my hands behind my head and take me hard and fast. I want him to fuck me so hard I forget to breathe and his name is the only word I know. I want to fuck the nightmares out of him. This is my design."

His eyes open. In one swift motion he lifts you up and drops you down on your back. His hands grab your wrists and hold them behind your head. He hovers over you, a sweaty, disheveled, and beautiful mess. He pounds into you hard, grunting lowly. His grasp on your wrists tighten as he moves his head down to kiss you, his lips soft but extremely firm against yours. As you moan loudly, he makes a soft shushing sound, bringing his lips down to kiss your neck. You arch your back, breathing hard. The lack of normal circulation in your wrists is definitely starting to make you feel slightly weak, but you couldn't care less.  
"Will," you cry out, your legs tangling around his hips.  
"Fuck," he breathes out quietly. The profanity sounds so sweet out of his mouth. You buck your hips up to meet him on the next thrust.  
Moaning into his mouth, you kiss him. Whisper that you're close.  
He's thrusting faster than ever, the sensation of his balls against your ass making your entire body quiver.  
"Will!" you shout, tightening around him, muscles spasming, body at the height of pleasure. Your back arches, your toes curl, and for a second you forget everything on earth besides him.  
He comes a second later, collapsing on top of you. After he pulls out, the two of you stay like that, your hands tracing his back and twirling the disheveled locks of curly hair. He kisses you, his beard scratchy and nice against your chin.  
"Was that what you wanted?" he asks. "Was that your design?"  
"Even better," you assure him.


End file.
